


Grief Forgotten

by PFL (msmoat)



Series: Burning Bridges [2]
Category: The Professionals
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-01
Updated: 2008-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmoat/pseuds/PFL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie has lingering difficulties from the events in "Burning Bridges." Doyle finds a way to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> _Written as a Time Stamp story at the request of crimson_37, earthdogue, and rosie55. It takes place six months after "Burning Bridges."_

" _Ray_!"

Doyle jerked upright, spilling hot water on his hand from the kettle. Dammit. He placed the kettle on the work surface, grabbed his cane, and moved to the kitchen door. The lounge was empty. So much for an early evening nap--Bodie had probably retreated to the bathroom. Doyle hesitated, then followed him.

The bathroom door stood open and he heard water running. When he arrived at the doorway he found Bodie standing in front of the mirror, eyes closed, hands clenched on the washstand. Six months. Six months since they'd gone out with a blaze of glory--Doyle tumbling off a roof; Bodie tumbling into a hole in the ground. But only Bodie had nightmares about it, and Doyle knew exactly why that was. The hurt he had caused had gone deep. He leaned against the doorway, stomach tight.

"I'm sorry." Bodie's voice was tight but soft. Doyle could see in the mirror that his eyes were closed.

"I'm here."

There was a pause, and then Bodie sighed. "I know." He straightened, and Doyle could almost see him pulling a protective cloak around himself, blocking his pain from public view. It made him angry that Bodie hid from him, but he kept himself under control--there had been enough damage done through anger.

They had come so far in six months. They were settling into a new life--Bodie working with Jack Craine at the training centre, Doyle giving occasional lectures at CI5 and Hendon. The bloody physio still took up most of his time, yet he had made relatively rapid progress. He was walking again, although his knee was stiff and would always give him trouble. Everything was fine--except for Bodie's bloody nightmares.

There was no need to ask if it was the same one. The defeated expression in Bodie's eyes told him all he needed to know. Doyle reached out his hand. "Come on."

Bodie hesitated a moment, then took his hand. Doyle led him to their bedroom.

"I thought you were going to prepare your notes for tomorrow." Bodie stood in the centre of the room as Doyle switched on the lamp next to the bed.

"This is more important." Doyle turned down the bed clothes, then unbuttoned his shirt.

"Ray. There's no need to--"

Doyle looked up, and whatever was on his face, it shut Bodie up. Doyle wanted to walk to him, but he sat on the bed, laying his cane down. "Come here."

Bodie came and sat beside him. His eyes closed when Doyle put his hand on his face, cupping his chin.

"Fancy having it off with me?" He felt it as Bodie smiled. "Yeah, I thought you'd like that."

Bodie pressed closer to him, one hand on Doyle's stomach. He brushed his lips across Doyle's forehead. "Distraction, Doyle?"

"A tried and true method." Doyle gasped as Bodie's hand stroked down his stomach and pressed against his cock. Bodie eased him back on the bed and Doyle let him take the lead. As always, Bodie was gentle, careful with Doyle's leg, making it a slow climb to passion. But Doyle had been making plans of his own, and it was time to set them in motion.

The beginning of the nightmare was always the same, as Bodie told it. He was in the bombed out house again, buried under debris. But this time he knew Doyle was never coming for him. It varied after that--sometimes Doyle had left him, other times he was dead. But always, he said, he came to the realisation that he'd been imagining Doyle's voice on the R/T; imagining a life together outside of CI5. Reality was the dark place; the debilitating solitude. He knew it in his bones and in his gut. And that's when he'd cry out.

"It's so real. I know it's the truth," Bodie had whispered to him, his hands tight enough on Doyle's arms to cause bruises.

They had talked about it. They had ignored it. Now Bodie was trying to hide it from him. When would the nightmares stop? When the fuck would Bodie realise that this was real--in his bones and in his gut? Because if he never realised it, never felt it...what chance did they have?

"Slow it down, Ray. Ray." Bodie breathed heavily, his voice strained.

Doyle slid his hands down Bodie's back. He pulled Bodie closer as he moved against him, and kept him from pulling back. With his lips and tongue he explored Bodie's mouth until he felt all resistance melt away. He slid his hand further then, along the swell of Bodie's bum, and to the sensitive skin near his arse hole.

"Fuck. Doyle!" Bodie moved back, as Doyle knew he would, and Doyle's finger slid into him. Bodie caught his breath and stilled.

Doyle kissed his neck, then nipped at the skin. "That's right. I'm going to fuck you, Bodie." His left arm clamped on Bodie's waist, holding him in place, but he used his right hand to rub Bodie's arse in a gentle caress.

"It's too soon."

"No. It's not."

"Ray." Bodie looked at him, his eyes serious.

Doyle soothingly stroked along Bodie's sides and back. "I checked. I won't damage anything as long as I don't try to kneel." He tilted his head. "Think you can sit on me?"

Bodie's eyes closed for a moment, and he ducked his head, placing a kiss along Doyle's jaw.

Doyle stretched, rubbing his cock against Bodie. He wanted inside him, wanted Bodie clenched around him like a glove.

"What are you plotting, eh?" Bodie kissed his way to Doyle's ear. "I know you," he whispered.

"That's mutual." He smiled. "Just like the fucking." Doyle cupped Bodie's head, and kissed him, lush and deep. "Trust me."

Bodie's face was flushed, and Doyle could feel the pulse in his neck. He dropped a kiss on Doyle's nose, then reached for the drawer in the bedside cabinet.

It wasn't what it used to be, Doyle realised a while later. Bodie still held back as he made love to him; was still too careful of Doyle's comfort. And yet it was close. It gave Doyle hope. He felt the urgency in Bodie, felt the tremble in his body even as control won out over passion. Give it time, he thought, one hand on Bodie's balls, the other pumping his cock as he guided it to his mouth. Get him going and he'll forget....

"Hang on, Ray." Bodie pulled back. His hand covered Doyle's on his cock, stopped its motion.

"Sod it. It's my leg that's broken, not my mouth! Come here, you bastard." He lunged forward and took Bodie's cock into his mouth.

"Christ!"

Bodie's hand fell away and Doyle took him deeper, sucked and licked, revelling in the heat and the hardness filling him. But it was the groan that pierced him, sending a jolt to his own cock. How long since he'd heard that helpless sound? Or felt the strength of the thrust that followed it? Bodie moved inside him, fucking his mouth, taking his pleasure rather than holding it back. And that lit an answering spark within Doyle--a need to match Bodie's.

But he didn't want it to end like that--not fucking yet. He was after more than Bodie's body. He released Bodie's cock after a final lick. Bodie gasped and shuddered above him. "The lube."

"Bloody...hell." Bodie sat back on him, his chest heaving. Doyle rubbed his nipple, then sat up enough to take it in his mouth. "Stop that! You...prick." But Bodie was laughing now, and his eyes were filled with lust and humour, the shadow of fear and grief overtaken, at least for now. Doyle would see it banished, if he could.

"Give me that," Doyle said, reaching for the tube.

"Ah-ah. My turn." And then he made a show of it, rubbing the lube into himself, taking Doyle's cock in his slick hand, offering him teasing, light swipes with his tongue. Doyle found himself losing sight of the main objective as his head fell back against the pillows. Christ he was hard. He tried to push into the maddeningly loose fist around his cock, but it was like pushing into foam.

"Bodie!"

"Yes, Ray?" His voice was obscenely normal.

Doyle opened his mouth to yell, but his breath caught as he saw Bodie balanced on his knees. Doyle's cock was poised to take him.

"Did you have something to say?"

Doyle reached out to touch Bodie's face, not surprised to find his finger trembled. "Do it slow, eh?"

Bodie held his gaze as he lowered himself onto Doyle's cock. Doyle wanted to close his eyes, but he'd had enough of hiding, enough of evasion. He'd promised that to Bodie six months ago. So he let Bodie see what it did to him as he watched Bodie fuck himself. He could barely breathe, his chest was so tight. He felt every inch of it as he gained entrance into Bodie--so tight, so fucking tight. He held still until Bodie stopped moving, and then he gave in to the need to thrust. It was just a small movement but it pulled that groan from Bodie again. That lovely, helpless sound of need. He wrapped his hand around Bodie's cock.

"Bodie. Close your eyes."

Bodie obeyed him. His head tilted back, exposing his throat.

"What do you see?"

When Bodie didn't answer, Doyle thrust again, relishing the hiss that followed. "What do you see?"

"Nothing. Dark."

"Yeah. It's dark all around you, isn't it?" He sharpened his tone: "Keep your eyes closed."

"Doyle." The strain was back in Bodie's voice.

"Ssh. You listen to me. It's dark with your eyes closed." He looked to the side and saw the lamp was just within reach. He switched it off, and felt Bodie tense. He gripped and pulled on his cock, and Bodie moved a few inches up and down. "That's right. You're in the dark, aren't you? Just like in that fucking house."

"No."

"Yeah."

"No!" Bodie raised himself, as if to escape, but then he pushed himself back down on Doyle, filled himself with Doyle.

"What do you feel?" Doyle struggled to get his breathing under control. "What the fuck do you feel?" His eyes adjusted to the dim light from the street lamp outside the window. He could see Bodie, see the strain in his face.

"You." They were moving together now, in counterpoint rhythm.

"Where am I?" Sod it, he was already too close. His fist tightened on Bodie's cock. "Where am I?"

"Here! In me. Ah, Christ, Doyle!"

"Where was I then?" Dammit, he was going to come. The roll was inexorable, starting in his gut, like a detonation. He needed a longer bloody fuse! "Where?" His hand paused on Bodie's cock.

"There. With me. On...the R/T."

"Yeah." He slid his hand up and down. "With you. I'm going to bring you off, Bodie. Same time as me. We're in this together, mate, and don't you sodding forget it!" He moved strongly within Bodie. "Feel me, damn you. It'll never be over. You're mine. I'm the one that fucks you, and you me."

"All you need." Bodie's voice was ragged. "Ray--"

"I'm here."

And on the words he came, his semen rushing into Bodie, unstoppable. Bodie cried out, convulsed, and followed him into release. Doyle fell back against the pillows, gasping and shuddering, only gradually aware that his leg was aching. Well. It was worth it. He rubbed Bodie's shoulder.

"Bloody hell, Ray." Bodie moaned as he slid off Doyle, and Doyle's cock slid from his body. He pushed himself up on an elbow. "What a mess."

"Your turn to change the sheets." Doyle stretched an arm above his head, settling more firmly into the bed.

"Hmm." Bodie lowered his head and licked Doyle's chest, and neck, and face--cleaning him. Doyle rested a hand on Bodie's head and smiled. When he was finished, Bodie looked at him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm not complaining."

"Yet. I'll get you a tablet, shall I?"

"Nah. Stay here."

Bodie nodded and rested his chin on Doyle's shoulder. They were still for several minutes, just breathing. "New memories, eh?" Bodie murmured.

"Something like that." Bodie's hair was soft under his fingers.

"'And time remembered is grief forgotten.'"

Doyle frowned. "Is that that bloody poem again?"

"I have it memorised."

"Berk."

Bodie ducked his head against him. "Don't know if it'll work."

Doyle shrugged. "Then we'll try something else." His hand tightened on Bodie's head for a moment, then he stroked down to his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Not fast, anyway."

Doyle stopped mid-rub. He peered down at Bodie and found blue eyes looking back at him with laughter in them. Laughter and the ever-present love he'd once nearly denied. "You'll regret that."

"If you can catch me."

Doyle gave him a slow smile.

"Cheater."

Doyle kissed his forehead. "But not till the morning." He cocked his head. "Sleep?"

Bodie's smile was easy. "Yeah."

And in the morning he found Bodie beside him still, deeply and peacefully asleep.

END

_January 2008_


End file.
